


Over the Rainbow

by SelenaEstella



Category: Bleach
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But mostly fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marriage, Mentioned break up, Minor Original Character(s), Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wedding Fluff, off-screen character developement, past break up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: 100 years in the future, Grimmjow and Ichigo prepare to rock Soul Society to its core, in the very best way possible. Time for the wedding of the century!...what could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

“Good morning,” said Ichigo, addressing the assembled shinigami. “As you probably know already, I am Captain Kurosaki.”

“And I am Lieutenant Akiyama," said the woman beside him.

“Welcome to Squad Seven.”

Ichigo stood in the small training room, leaning idly against the wall behind him as he looked over the crowd. Many eager faces stared up at them, hanging on his every word. Even after years of captaincy, Ichigo’s division still had the highest number of applicants. Every single one of the academy graduates before him, however, had been carefully picked by both himself and his Lieutenant, and he had faith in all of them.

Not that everyone held that opinion…

“Now,” Akiyama continued, “you have been chosen because Kurosaki-taichou and I believe that you hold values suited to Squad Seven; that you will work hard to uphold those values; and that you are not simply here because Kurosaki-taichou is famous.”

“Rina…”

“It needs saying!” Rina insisted, adjusting her reading glasses as she looked over her notes. “Now,” she said again, “I see that quite a few of you are interested in furthering diplomatic relations with Hueco Mundo; this is good, however, it bares saying that there is far less field work than most of you are probably hoping for.”

“They’ve read the briefing, Rina.”

“As I said, it needs saying!”

“Um… Excuse me, Kurosaki-taichou…”

Rina looked vaguely annoyed at the interruption, but Ichigo smiled encouragingly.

“What is it?” he asked, to the young man in the third row whose hand was tentatively raised.

“About, uh, Jaegerjaques-san…”

Ichigo’s smile turned indulgent. “Grimmjow isn’t here at the moment,” he said. There were some disappointed mutterings. “But he likes to hang out around the barracks, so keep an eye out. Also, yes, you can challenge him to a fight, but don’t expect to win.”

“And even if you did win, no, that wouldn’t automatically land you a seated position,” Rina sniffed. “Honestly, whoever started that rumour…”

“Today,” Ichigo cut in, “you will be shown your rooms, meet your officers, and be split into teams. Tomorrow, you will begin your induction to the squad – whether it be combat or diplomacy; field studies or research within Soul Society, I expect you to give it your all.”

“Use your spare time today to get familiar with Division Seven’s barracks,” Rina added. “I will want you here again, promptly, tomorrow morning. No getting lost.”

“That's all from us for the moment,” said Ichigo. “Any questions?”

Many hands shot up.

“Any questions that aren’t about Grimmjow?”

All the hands went down.

Ichigo laughed, and stood up straight. “I would like to stay longer, but I have a meeting with the Head Captain. You’re in Akiyama’s care now. Good luck!”

Rina observed the shinigami before her. A chill seemed to travel through the air.

-

It was a bright spring morning in the Seireitei. Sakura blossoms drifted by on the mild breeze, and the sky was clear save for a few wisps of cloud.

Ichigo stepped onto the courtyard and sighed in relief. It wasn’t that he disliked meeting his new squad members, but jeez, it always took so long for that starry-eyed look to disappear. He could stand being a celebrity – hell, he had to – but he preferred living life without people bending over backwards to please him, thanks. The other captains were fine, his friends were great, but the _academy_ … Lesson learned: don't pose for the Women's Association, ever.

While it was supposed to be a formal captains' meeting, Kyoraku had never been the type for stuffy offices. He’d requested they meet in one of the Seireitei’s gardens, and as Ichigo stepped onto the lush grass, he could understand why. The scene was perfectly picturesque, Kyoraku kneeling beneath the lush branches of a ginko tree, eyes closed as he breathed in the aroma drifting from the teacup in his hands. It had been more than a century, yet he looked liked he’d aged barely a fraction of that time - a few more lines, a few more greys, but not even close to  _old_.

“Morning, Kyoraku-san,” Ichigo said as he approached.

“Morning, Kurosaki-san!” Kyoraku gestured for him to sit. "How is our bright young Seventh? How are the new recruits?"

"Good," said Ichigo, as he sat and accepted a cup - matcha green tea, perfectly brewed. "All good. Rina's getting them settled, not much for me to do, really."

"Oh?" Kyoraku raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you to take a hands-off approach. How is Grimmjow-san? Breaking in the greenhorns for you?"

"Kyoraku, you know I give them at least three days get settled before I unleash Grimmjow," Ichigo replied with mock seriousness. "Although he's… kind of why I'm here."

Kyoraku put down his drink and sat up a little straighter, recognizing the subtle change of mood. Ichigo was hardly the most tightly wound of the Gotei's captains; even as he sat there looking troubled, he seemed relaxed. And he deserved it, Shunsui thought. After all the strain and sacrifice, not to mention the countless hours of work he put in as a captain, Ichigo deserved a break. It was why Shunsui would help however he could.

“It’s something kind of serious, actually.”

As Ichigo explained, Kyoraku’s expression went from intrigued, to surprised, to thoughtful, and then to one of gentle understanding.

“…so I'd like some advice I guess,“ Ichigo finished.

Kyoraku thought things over for a moment. “You are really this determined to keep one-upping Byakuya-kun then?”

“K… Kyoraku…”

“I know I know, just kidding!” He waved his hand idly for a moment, then sobered. “Ichigo, in all seriousness, it will be quite the major commitment.”

“I know that… it’s just… we’ve been together so long now, it’s not that it’ll change our personal relationship, but… I want something more, I guess.” Ichigo nodded to himself. "I think it's time."

“I understand. Have you spoken to him about it at all?”

“Nor yet.” Ichigo scratched the back of his head. “I actually wanted to make sure it’s possible first.”

“I cannot tell you it will be easy.” Catching Ichigo’s disheartened look, Kyoraku set down his teacup. “But rest assured, Kurosaki: you already have my support, and my blessing.”

Ichigo smiled. “Thank you.”

-

Something was up.

Grimmjow lounged in the branches of a tree, pink petals falling in his hair, one leg swinging idly. It was still morning, and later he would go to Hueco Mundo, but for the moment he sat in the early sunlight, and thought.

He’d been with Ichigo for more than half a century. He’d known him even longer. He knew his favourite food, his favourite drink, his favourite author, and that he still collected band T-shirts whenever he managed to sneak off to the human world. Every dark secret, every embarrassing truth, and every inch of skin.

He’d been with Ichigo for a _really long damn time_ , and he could tell when something was up.

Lately Ichigo had seemed... distracted. Not in a bad way, but like something was on his mind, clouding his thoughts. He wasn’t acting strange and certainly nothing was  _wrong_ , but sometimes, in the quiet moments, he’d stare into space with a thoughtful expression.

And Grimmjow had to wonder why they hadn't talked it through already.

He sighed, sitting up and brushing the petals out of his hair. The Seireitei had long since woken up around him, and it was about time he should get going as well. Grimmjow smirked to himself. Weren't some new guys entering the division? Eyes closing again for a moment, he felt out until he could sense the bright sparks of power, pale compared to Ichigo's sun, flitting around in the barracks. He'd better give them a show; the ones running in circles seemed like a decent start.

Birds singing, people talking, children shouting in the distance… just an ordinary day. It did remind him of something, though, something that had only happened a few days earlier. Grimmjow paused in his motions to get out of the tree.

It had been spring, but felt more like later winter, frost crisp on the ground and ruining the few flowers that had dared bloom early. Hadn’t stopped Grimmjow with his Arrancar hierro from lounging in his usual nap spot, though. The day had started particularly slowly, with Ichigo dragging his feet, fighting the urge to do all his paperwork from under the kotatsu in their house rather than the desk in his office.

Grimmjow had been waiting to see him off, like he often did, so he hadn’t been trying to fall asleep. It hadn’t taken him much to notice the distinct sounds of a group of people trying to be quiet.

_Eyes still closed, Grimmjow turned his hearing into the hushed voices and shuffling feet. He could tell almost immediately – from the pitch of the voices and the lengths of the strides – that the sounds belonged to a group of shinigami children._

“ _Go on!” one of them hissed._

“ _Yeah, be brave!” giggled another._

“ _I… don’t wanna…”_

“ _Oh c’mon, he’s right there!”_

_Grimmjow cracked an eye open. He could just about see the gaggle of Noble brats where they peered around the wall, pushing what looked like the smallest one forward. A game of Annoy the Arrancar, then. Over the many years he’d spent among humans it’d been pretty firmly drilled into him that, while children were annoying little shits, hurting them was a definite no-go, unless of course he wanted to find himself speared on a few dozen sharp edges. Not that he’d ever seriously considered it. A pain in the ass was all they were, they could never be genuine opponents._

_The smallest one shuffled over the icy ground, wringing his hands. Behind him, the group followed far more slowly, bunched together and giggling hushed words._

_The boy inched forward until he was almost directly beneath Grimmjow, out of his line of sight but reiatsu clear as day, somewhere in the vicinity of his left foot. Slowly, very slowly, it started reaching towards him, almost like the kid was…_

_Small, clumsy fingers began tugging at the heel of his shoe._

‘ _Seriously?’ Grimmjow thought to himself, feigning sleep for just a little longer._

_Then he swung down with a roar._

_The group of children screamed and ran back towards the wall. The one by his feet gave a panicked, choked-off cry and began run as well. It seemed especially small, Grimmjow noted absently, yawning widely and considering his job there done. He was about to turn and leave, when the smallest child tripped…_

… _fell…_

… _and burst into tears._

_Ichigo chose that moment to make his appearance._

_The door flew open with a bang. Ichigo jumped onto the damp grass and took in the scene._

_One Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, confused._

_About five children, trembling._

_One child by itself, lying on the grass, sobbing._

_Grimmjow caught his eye and made a shrugging gesture that roughly translated to ‘do something about this because I’m useless’._

_Ichigo did. He crossed the small garden with long strides and scooped the child into his arms._

_It stopped crying almost immediately, freezing at the sudden contact before slowly relaxing, tiny hands fisted in Ichigo’s haori._

_Ichigo let it sniffle into his collar for a moment before fixing Grimmjow with a look that roughly translated to ‘you’re an idiot but I love you, now please explain what happened.’_

_Grimmjow’s reply was to nod pointedly at the group of other children._

_Understanding dawned. Ichigo looked to the group. “Come here,” he said, gently but firmly. Glancing at the each other, the children meekly walked forward, feet scuffing on the grass. “Now,” said Ichigo, once they were assembled before him, “care to explain what happened?”_

“ _It… it was only a dare,” mumbled one of them, presumably the leader._

“ _What was a dare?” Ichigo pressed._

“ _To st-steal his shoe!” one at the back said quickly, pointing at Grimmjow._

_"Oi," said Grimmjow. "You little-"_

“ _I see,” Ichigo cut in. “Do you think it was a good idea? Would your parents be happy?”_

_The children shook their heads._

_"So, what do you say to Grimmjow-san?"_

_The group mumbled their apologies._ _Grimmjow did his best not to look like he thought the whole thing was hilarious and took the opportunity to slip away, but paused just around the side of the house, curiosity getting the better of him_ _._

“ _It’s to make him stronger, s-sir!” one of the brats said suddenly._

_Ichigo frowned at the girl, who hid behind her long hair. “Who?”_

“ _M-M-Miki-kun, sir!”_

“ _Miki-kun?” Ichigo looked at the kid balanced on his hip. “Are you Miki-kun?”_

_Miki nodded shyly._

“ _We j-just, we only want him to get_ _stronger, sir!” a differen_ _t_ _child quickly explained._

“ _Ah, I see.” Ichigo nodded slowly. “So you think stealing Grimmjow's shoe will make him stronger?”_

“ _W… well…”_

 _Ichigo raised his eyebrows._ “ _Doesn’t that sound a bit silly out loud?”_

_A few mumbled ‘yes sir’s._

“ _And do you really think he_ needs _to get stronger?" Ichigo continued. "Miki-kun’s a lot younger than you.”_

 _A few shared glances. “He cries, sir,” a girl mumbled. “_ _Too much… whenever he’s hurt._ _”_

 _Ichigo’s gaze softened into something like nostalgia._ _He crouched down, beginning his story._ _“Did you know,” he_   _said_ , “ _that when I was very little - about Miki-kun's age - I started taking karate class?”_

_The children listened intently._

“ _No…”_

“ _No, sir.”_

“ _What happened, sir?”_

“ _Well, I wasn’t very good,”_ _Ichigo continued,_ _“I tried, and tried, but I kept on losing. I kept trying, and I began to get way better, but I still lost nearly every day. And you know what?”_ _He paused for dramatic effect._

“ _I cried every single time.”_

_The children gasped._

“ _You did?? I mean, you did, sir?”_

“ _Really sir?”_

_"Promise, sir?"_

“ _I promise I’m telling the truth,” said Ichigo, hand across his heart. “I cried a lot when I was little. But, it didn’t stop me from getting stronger, did it?”_

_The children shook their heads._

“ _And I still became a captain, did I?”_

_The children all nodded._

“ _So I don’t think it matters if Miki-kun cries, and I definitely don’t think he needs to steal Grimmjow’s shoe. Now.”_ _He got back up._ _“I’m sure you all have places you need to be, so why don’t you get going, and I’ll take Miki-kun back to his house, ok?”_

_With a few more mumbled ‘yes sir’s, the group of children retreated._

_Grimmjow smirked to himself and turned away, figuring he was in the clear. He only made it a few steps before Ichigo called him back._

_Grimmjow poked his head around the side of the house to find Ichigo walking towards him, still holding the kid. “What?” said Grimmjow irritably, going to meet them. “I have places to be.”_

“ _So do I,_ _hold on for a minute. Oi, Miki, he isn’t that scary, see?”_

“ _Yes I am,” said Grimmjow, offended. The child looked up from Ichigo’s shoulder and promptly rammed his face back into it with a squeak._

“ _You really scared him,” Ichigo said quietly._

 _Grimmjow gazed off at the skyline and ran a hand through his hair. It seemed so pointless. Grimmjow was a Hollow, he was_ supposed _to be intimidating. But…_

“ _Sorry, kid,” he said gruffly. “Did mean to scare ya that badly.”_

“ _It’s’ok,” the boy mumbled. “Th’nk you f’ not eatin’ me.”_

_Ichigo laughed softly. “He’d never eat you, so you don't need to worry.”_

“ _Yeah, you’re way too scrawny,” Grimmjow cackled._

 _Ichigo rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll see you later,” he said. “Tell Nel I said hi, I should be able to_ _visit_ _soon.”_

“ _Sure.” This was usually the part where they kissed, but it’d be awkward with the brat_ _in the way_ _._ _So they reached for each other instead, hands clasping briefly before they parted. “See ya, Ichigo.”_

Back in the present, Grimmjow opened his eyes.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Of  _course_.

Ichigo wanted  _kids_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm imagining Ichigo's hair to look like [this](https://c1.staticflickr.com/6/5216/5467577198_af284bc717.jpg) fyi, but i've left the description vague on purpose, so you can fill in the blanks yourself.


	2. Chapter 2

The day was even warmer by the time Ichigo got back, dust in the training yard hanging in the air, sunlight shining through it in a hazy glow. It was too early for cicadas, but birdsong drifted from the nearby trees. The barracks were almost deserted, just the night shift guys sleeping in, and a few admin staff wandering around. It was the perfect lazy day.

Ichigo stood on the walkway not far from his office, elbows on the railing, staring at the sky.

He didn't want to work. His talk with Kyoraku had left him too distracted, too preoccupied. And it was still three hours until lunch break! The temptation to slack off was growing stronger and stronger. Sokyoku Hill was _right there_ , training ground underneath it beckoning - he could easily kill some time training, cut loose a little away from the rest of Soul Society, it always felt good to flex his powers. Ichigo propped his head in his hand, Zangetsu itching at the back of his mind. It wasn't like he _had_ to keep regular work hours. There were the hot springs, too; Ichigo could totally imagine himself sinking back and relaxing after a workout… and…

Ichigo closed his eyes. He felt out among the many spirit ribbons, the new and the familiar, and smirked.

Grimmjow hadn't left yet. It could be just the two of them… training together… bathing together…

_But no!_

Eyes flying open, Ichigo pushed off the railing and furiously shook his head. He had an example to set! A reputation to maintain! And an ongoing competition with Rukia over who could be the better captain! He couldn't afford to slack off!

With a heavy sigh, he turned and started walking. New recruits meant paperwork, and hey, it wasn't  _boring_ , exactly. Cross-checking Rina's notes, learning about new people, finding out who was fitting in and who needed a helping hand. All part of the job he loved so much.

…yeah, who was he kidding?

Ichigo sat at his desk. Rina was out with the new guys still, so there wasn't even someone to poke his ass and get him moving. Several stacks of paper lay waiting. If he could only… make a start…!

Half an hour and a horror novel later, Ichigo had to admit that he might be losing to Rukia.

"Watcha reading?" said a voice from right behind him. Ichigo stood up so fast he nearly knocked the chair over.

Grimmjow was perched seductively in the window, jacket and jeans clashing gloriously with Soul Society's aesthetic. Ichigo stumbled around his chair legs and tripped gracelessly into Grimmjow's arms.

"Save me," he begged. "Something's going down, right? Hollows? House fire? Kenpachi?"

"Nothin' that exciting," Grimmjow laughed, patting Ichigo between the shoulder blades. "Why? Rina locked you in again?"

Ichigo pulled back, disappointed. "That was once and it was an accident." At least, she  _said_ it was an accident. "Really? No imminent disaster?"

"Well, shit, not right  _now,_ " said Grimmjow, with a purely villainous smile. "I can arrange one if you're  _really_ desperate."

"Ugh, don't tempt me." Ichigo leaned back against his desk, head tilted back just enough to show his neck.

"Tempt _you?"_  Grimmjow slipped from the window and into the room, eyes following the curve of Ichigo's throat. The invitation was clear. Hands braced on the desk, Grimmjow pressed his body to Ichigo's and bit at the exposed skin, light enough so not to bruise but hard enough to earn a gasp. His mouth trailed upwards, to Ichigo's jaw, and then his lips, pressing in for a kiss. Ichigo hummed in satisfaction, hands busy sliding down Grimmjow's back so he could give that ass a squeeze.

Grimmjow pulled away just slightly, just enough, pupils blown dark with desire. "You doing alright?" he asked.

There might, just possibly, have been a record scratch. Ichigo stopped moving his hands.

"Uhh, what do you mean?"

Neither of them shifted, but the atmosphere sure did.

"I've noticed," said Grimmjow, in a low voice that was distractedly sexy. "You seem kind of out of it."

"Maybe that's because you've got a hand down my pants," Ichigo replied.

Grimmjow retrieved his hand. "Is something up?" he tried again. "Because you're also frowning way less, which is weird."

Ah, shit.

Busted.

"Yeah, you caught me," said Ichigo, smiling softly. "But it's nothing bad, I promise. It's just kind of a surprise."

Grimmjow frowned, skeptical. "'Kind of'?" he echoed. "C'mon, what are you hiding?"

"You'll see." Ichigo tried for another kiss, feeling Grimmjow relax as it deepened. "You got plans?" he asked into the edge of Grimmjow's mouth.

"Later," Grimmjow purred, reaching behind himself to deftly pull the blinds down. "Much, much later."

-

There were things Ichigo had known he was giving up, when he chose to stay with Grimmjow. He knew it meant he couldn’t have the family he’d always expected. That a part of him had always wanted. He had even considered, on the coldest of cold nights during the long years they were apart, finding someone else.

But he’d always wake up knowing he could  _never_  do it.

It wouldn’t be fair to his partner, for one thing. He could never hope to explain his powers to anyone human, and he could never stand to hide them. He could never be fully understood by anyone who hadn’t been there for the ride, and it left him with a frustratingly small dating pool. There had been a time when he’d been sure he’d never find anyone, not in that life at least. Everyone he was close to was either too much of a friend or too much like a sibling.

Then Grimmjow had come crashing back into his life in a glorious blaze of violence and colour, and for more than twenty years everything had seemed  _right_. Not perfect. It had been a long time before anything could be called  _perfect,_  but neither of them bought into that soulmates-and-destiny crap anyway. They’d fought to make it work, even when it hadn’t.  _That_  was why they were together, after so long, after  _everything_.

Ichigo couldn’t have the family he’d been taught to expect, but he hadn’t  _wanted_  that with Grimmjow. Even when everyone he knew was suddenly getting married, even when Yuzu first made him him an uncle. Despite all the reunion parties and family dinners and the  _frequent_  hints that he was missing out, Ichigo hadn’t felt any sort of  _need_  for kids.

So, honestly, the problem wasn’t that Ichigo’s friends and family were growing up and getting married and having children while he wasn’t. The problem was that Ichigo’s friends and family were growing up and getting married and having children while he wasn’t…  _again_.

Rukia and Renji had their kids. Inoue and Ishida had raised two children in the human world and four in Soul Society. Chad was basically a father to a couple of hundred orphans. Even Ichigo's sisters were building their own families again, Yuzu trying for a baby with her new husband, and of course people in the Seireitei were always getting engaged or married. It was life.

Ichigo just wanted  _something_.

He made his way swiftly through Rukongai’s streets, taking his lunch break well away from his division. The houses and people were looking considerably better compared to his first visit, decades ago. After the Quincy invasion it hadn't just been the Seireitei that needed rebuilding. Although many of the outer districts still resembled slums, Ichigo was always happy to see another road or building being transformed. A few people who saw him bowed, some even called and waved, but Ichigo didn't stop.

It was Saturday. That meant Shiba-Kurosaki family time – lunch, gossip, and party games if Isshin got his way. Some things never changed. Ichigo approached the Shiba house, gazing up at the architecture. This month’s theme was a pair of tall birds holding the banner in long beaks – stalks, maybe, for Yuzu?

“Morning, Koganehiko,” Ichigo greeted. The Shiba family's faithful servant looked up from where he was sweeping the front of the house, and bowed in greeting.

“Good morning, Kurosaki-taichou!” he said. “What brings you here today?”

“Just family stuff,” Ichigo said vaguely. “Are my sisters and the old man in at the moment?”

“They are,” said Koganehiko. “I believe they are drinking tea on level two.”

“Thanks,” said Ichigo, stepping inside. “See you around.”

The building had that familiar wood-and-gunpowder smell to it as Ichigo journeyed down. It didn’t take him long to find the gathering – his dad’s guffaw mixed with Kukaku’s laugh lead him straight to the right room.

Ichigo didn’t knock. Instead he flung the door open and glared furiously at the gathering. “You didn’t invite me?!”

“Ichigo!!” Isshin wasted no time in flinging himself at his son. “Why didn’t you tell us you could make it?” he demanded, from the floor, under Ichigo’s foot. “We would’ve asked!”

“Yo Karin, Yuzu, Kukaku-san, Akaito-san,” Ichigo greeted, stepping over his dad’s legs. "What's up?"

“Morning, Ichi-nii,” Yuzu chirped. She'd grown her hair out as an adult and it reached almost to her waist, tied back in a braid against the blue of her dress. "Come in, sit down."

“Yo,” said Karin. "Long time no see." She'd gone in the opposite direction, hair a styled pixie cut that was convenient for keeping Ganju's punks in line.

“Ichigo!” said Kukaku, who apart from some wardrobe alterations and a new right arm, looked the same as ever. “Good to see you!”

“Uh, good morning, Ichigo-taicho,” said Akaito, a meek young man with dark wavy hair, who happened to be Yuzu’s husband.

“You see?!” Isshin bellowed, leaping up. _“That_  is how a son is _supposed_ to react to his father’s manly greeting!”

“You get used to it,” Ichigo said flatly, deflecting Ishhin's counter-attack before taking the seat Kukaku offered. “Learn to dodge his tackles, then he hits the wall and knocks himself out.” Ichigo couldn’t say he was  _close_  to his brother-in-law – they had about as much in common as a cat did to a starfish – but Akaito's gentle temperament seemed a good match to Yuzu’s. Even if Isshin didn’t think he made a ‘proper’ Kurosaki.

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” said Akaito, offering a nervous smile.

"Say, where's Ganju?" Ichigo looked around the room, but there was nobody else apart from a few burn marks that vaguely resembled a face. Unless Ganju was preparing drinks?

"He's not important," Kukaku said dismissively. "What brings you here, Ichigo? I don't suppose you're interested in joining the family firework trade."

“Yeah, Ichigo,” said Yuzu, as she poured him tea. “What’s happened?”

Ichigo widened his eyes innocently. “Can’t I just visit my family sometimes?”

Nobody bought it.

“Not out of the blue like this,” said Yuzu.

“Yeah, we didn’t  _invite_  you because you hardly ever  _come_ ,” Karin griped. “Don’t you always have 'important captain stuff' to do?”

“Exactly!” Isshin crawled along the floor like a caterpillar before heaving himself up at the table. “My son takes his work  _very seriously_.”

"Actually it's because you're embarrassing as ever," Karin said into her drink.

“You’re right,” Ichigo conceded. “I have an announcement.”

“Ooh!” said Yuzu.

“Out with it then,” said Kukaku.

Ichigo took a breath. For a fraction of a second, he was nervous.

“I’m going to ask Grimmjow to marry me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“It’s about time!” Yuzu said hotly.

Karin, Akaito, and Kukaku looked slightly stunned. Isshin—

“ _Ichigooo!_ ” Isshin  _launched_  himself across the table at his son, spilling drinks, catching Ichigo in a crushing hug. “At last!” he wailed. “At last,  _two_  of my beautiful children have found their true loves~!”

Ichigo put up with the hug for all of a second before shoving Isshin away by the face. “Geddoff!”

Isshin sat back, beaming, tea stains on his yukata. Yuzu and Akaito looked forlornly at what was left of their drinks while Karin sipped from the cup she’d managed to save.

“You seriously intend to marry the Arrancar?” Kukaku asked, looking completely unfazed. Like Karin’s, her drink had pulled through just fine.

Ichigo looked her in the eye as he nodded. “Yes,” he said. “We’ve been living as a couple for more than a hundred years. All we need to do is make it official.”

Kakuaku held his gaze for a second more before breaking off with a smile, taking another sip of sake. “I suppose this family never does anything conventionally,” she remarked. “If you want my permission, you have it. You’re following in your father’s footsteps.”

“God, please, don’t go there,” Ichigo deadpanned, but not before Isshin started wailing again.

“Marriage, though?” said Karin, mouth twisted in distaste. She had never taken to Grimmjow. She had certainly never forgiven him. But then again, as the cynical younger sister of the family, it was practically her job to hold grudges.

“I’m sure, Karin,” said Ichigo. “I’ve had a long time to think. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“ _Awww,”_   Yuzu cooed, rounding the table to give Ichigo a far more gentle hug.

“But… will you be able to?” Akaito fidgeted under the sudden attention. “I mean… will the Seireitei really approve it? What about the other Noble Families?”

“I’ve spoken to the head captain,” said Ichigo. “He approves, and he’ll support me. As for the rest, there’s nothing saying that a Shinigami  _can’t_  marry an Arrancar.” A beat. "And I'm not a noble."

“But he isn’t a citizen,” Isshin pointed out. “Do you have a cunning plan to deal with that?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said confidently. “I do, in fact.”

_If Grimmjow says yes, of course._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some world-building headcanon, if anyone's interested - souls with enough spiritual energy get reborn into Soul Society, and retain their memories. So, while Yuzu and Karin lived and died as humans, they've been able to relocate with their family. However, they're something of an exception, since they were already half shinigami. Other than the ones who were reishi-fied (so Ishida, Orihime, and Sado), it doesn't look as if any of Ichigo's human friends have kept their memories.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like this chapter needed a serious glowup and I am WAY more satisfied with it now!
> 
> Some misunderstandings angst here

Hueco Mundo was the same as it had been last week: sand, Hollows, lizards, and more sand.

Grimmjow stood on the roof for a watchtower, scanning around Las Noches’ inner circle. The fortress had been almost completely rebuilt after the Vandenreich invasion, last remains of Shinigami ripped from its stone. It was a place that was purely Hollow, just as it should be, the high walls giving way to the black sky and cold moon. No ceiling. And no fake fucking sunlight.

Like an itch being scratched, in felt good to be back in the desert. The Seireitei was fun, with its colours and flavours and sounds, and its people to play with, but it could all get too  _much._  Especially when Grimmjow needed to think.

That being said, Las Noches wasn't without its distractions.

Grimmjow felt the staring first, before he caught sight of the Arrancar crouched behind a pillar. Low-level and young, not one of Aizen's, she ducked her head and hurried away when she realised she'd been caught. Not a threat, but it sure as hell could be annoying. When Shinigami stared it was because they were impressed, admiring, and the ones in Ichigo's division showed Grimmjow nothing less than respect.

To many in Las Noches, Grimmjow was the strange, deviant, unnatural Arrancar who was more _Shinigami_ than _Hollow._  Who had abandoned the desert for the Seireitei. Abandoned Harribel for Ichigo. Of course there were those who respected his power, his position, but he still caught the whispers in the halls. To many, he was a traitor - especially to the ones who still worshipped Aizen.

A cold smile tugged at Grimmjow's lips. As if the rumor-mongers knew shit about him or his life. He could look like a human, even live like one, but he was no less _Hollow._

Ichigo knew that. Knew better than anyone. His reassurance had done little to put Grimmjow at ease. He felt like he was missing something vital.

Which was why he needed to blow off some steam, but his usual sparring partner had so far failed to show. Grimmjow was getting impatient. He felt many more eyes on him as he waited, through masks both broken and whole. Las Noches had developed quite the civilisation, plenty of Arrancar and high-level Adjuchas seeking shelter within the fortress. Even a handful of Vasto Lordes had left their own territories, seeking a taste of the safety behind the walls, and the luxuries Harribel offered.

Frowning to himself, Grimmjow stepped off the tower and let himself drop. Squinting through the resulting dust cloud, he took another look around and heaved an impatient sigh. Where was she? Did she really have anything better to do?

Shit, maybe she was actually out. She still ran around the sand dunes with her Fracción after all, and the giant worm had been banned from Las Noches ever since it busted a hole in the main tower. Grimmjow might’ve actually missed her.

Turning towards the gates, he just barely caught the flash of green.

Not that it mattered, because there was no way he could’ve missed the frantic beckoning that came from inside the doorway of the next tower over.

“Do you have the stuff?” Nel hissed, once Grimmjow was within earshot. The heavy sandcloak she’d pulled over herself did a decent job of hiding her face, but the shape of her mask was squarely outlined against the hood. Her hair only made it more obvious.

“I got your stupid candy,” said Grimmjow, rolling his eyes.

Nel leaned in closer and put a hand up to her mouth in the most unsubtle whispering motion Grimmjow had ever seen.

“Shh! Harri-chan’s been getting on my case about the contraband. She can’t know! Just give me the goods already.”

“You’ve been reading too much shitty crime manga.” Still, as promised, Grimmjow reached into his jacket and pulled out a bag of licorice allsorts.

“I don’t know how you can eat those,” he complained, grimacing as Nel proceeded to rip the packet open and shove a handful into her maw. “They’re like bits of old shoelace.”

“I’m an addict,” Nel said cheerfully, mouth full. “Is this all you brought?”

“Go sign some into the next trade deal if you want more.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it.”

“Whatever. You gonna do what _I_ want, now?”

Nel twisted the bag closed and pushed it down her shirt. “You drive a hard bargain,” she sighed, rearranging her tits. “But sure.”

-

Well away from the gates of Las Noches, reiatsu flared, ice blue and acid green. Sparks scattered to the sand as blades met. Rock cracked and shattered as ceros flew.

Grimmjow swept Pantera forward and locked with Gamzuza. “Is that all you’ve got?” he sneered.

“You wish!” Nel laughed, twisting around with a solid kick. Grimmjow leapt back and responded with a barrage of ceros. Nel dodged three and deflected two; the sand erupted at her feet.

Grimmjow heard her running through the cloud, feinting right and left. He shot a bala into the dust and Nel sprinted out in a wide arc before darting in for another hit. Attacking from the right, she just barely slipped around his zanpakuto and rammed her head into his ribs. Grimmjow went flying.

“Fuck you!” he shouted, picking himself up. But he was grinning.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Nel taunted.

It was playful. It was _fun._  It was a way to cut loose, to try out dumb moves, to fight in a way that wasn’t life or death. Nel could enjoy this, when lives weren’t at stake.

Later, they sat resting on top of one of the watchtowers, a cool breeze drifting over the sand.

“That’s better,” Nel sighed, arms folded on her bent knee while she stretched the other out behind her. “Why’d you have to go so hard, huh? Is something up?”

Grimmjow leaned over his outstretched legs, grasping his feet, and stared thoughtfully at his knees. She could read him better than he liked, at times, but that was why he’d come here, right? He needed to work things out.

“Ichigo wants kids,” Grimmjow muttered eventually.

“Oh,” said Nel, with an air of polite confusion. “And?”

“ _And?_ ” Grimmjow pulled himself upright. “I don’t!”

“Ah,” said Nel.

“ _Yeah,_ ” said Grimmjow.

They’d never really talked about it. Hadn’t needed or wanted to. It had been more than a century, but Grimmjow still held the memory of one of Ichigo’s self-righteous asshole friends chewing him out, going at him with a speech about how their relationship would never work. “ _You can never have children with him!"_  had been the final point, delivered with an annoying ‘take that’ attitude as if it was the last nail in the proverbial coffin.

Grimmjow hadn’t seen that particular human again. Hadn’t seemed like Ichigo wanted to, either.

But that stupid little sentence hung on to Grimmjow’s mind. He knew there was a lot of weird human shit Ichigo hadn’t done, still wasn’t doing, because they were together. It hadn’t used to bother him - Ichigo was his own person. If there was something he was missing out on, he would say it, and he would do it.

And then there was.

And then he did.

And then they hadn’t seen each other for over fifty goddamn years.

Grimmjow eased himself into the splits and leaned forward again, one hand on either side of his thigh. He’d spent those long years alone torturing himself, thinking of Ichigo surrounded by human family, convincing himself to keep his ass put and not go slinking back to the human world in shame. When Ichigo had confessed that he’d spent those decades just as alone, it had been painful, but also a _relief._ Because if Ichigo wanted someone else, he would’ve had them. If he’d wanted _children_ , he would’ve had them _then._

But what if he’d changed his mind? What if Ichigo decided that he _hadn’t_ had his rightful share of human life? Would Grimmjow be able to stand it, sharing _their_ house and _their_ space with some snotty, stupid brat?

Would he have to leave _again?_

Grimmjow sat upright and crossed his legs, elbows propped on his knees, glaring at his feet. He could imagine the argument all too well, the accusations flying, the anger and hurt it would cause. He didn’t want to relive that. Anxiety twitched in Grimmjow’s chest as he closed his eyes and shook his head. No. It wouldn’t come to that. This was _different._

But he had no fucking idea what he was gonna do.

“I have no fucking idea what I’m gonna do,” he said.

“ _Hmm._ ” Nel tilted her head from side to side as she thought, stretching her neck. “Well, why don’t you try it?” she suggested. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“It’s a _person,_ not a hobby,” Grimmjow snorted. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Ooh!” said Nel. “I could become a child again, and you could take care of me?”

“Hard pass,” said Grimmjow, shuddering. This was stupid. Was there even much point asking her? Maybe he should try his luck with one of Ichigo's human friends, humiliating as it would be.

Nel shrugged, arching her spine as she stretched her arms above her head. “Have you talked to him about it?”

Grimmjow shrugged and flicked at a pebble. “Not yet.”

Nel gave him a _look._  “Do that first then,” she advised, getting to her feet and brushing sand off her front. “Grimmjow…” Her voice softened. “I know I don’t know much about this stuff, but honestly?”

She gave him the gentle, knowing sort of smile that made Grimmjow angry on principal.

“I think the two of you have survived worse than this. I think you can sort it out.”

“Hmph.” Grimmjow planted his chin in his fist and stared across the wasteland. Nel pulled the gross bag of candy out of her bra.

“I’m going back in,” she said. “You coming? Harri-chan likes talking to you, you know.”

“...Maybe later,” Grimmjow conceded. “I gotta think.”

Nel shoveled the last of the candy into her mouth. Forced Grimmjow into a licorice-scented hug for a moment before she was batted her away. Grimmjow watched Nel’s streak of green as she skipped towards the gates, watched them close behind her before getting to his feet.

Thinking would only do so much. Grimmjow could plan and guess and strategize as much as he wanted, but in the end, he had to act, because he wasn’t a fucking coward. Scowling, he turned away from the fortress and split the desert air. The Garganta swallowed him, and he walked slowly back towards the Seireitei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is licorice banned? Because it’s a crime and Harribel knows it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the amazing comments, guys! I'm really having fun writing this again ^o^
> 
> time for the sappiest chapter in the fic (so far).

It was dark when Grimmjow got back. He walked soundlessly along the rooftops, hearing quick whispers from the scattered shinigami on the ground below as he passed. Normally he’d make more of a show of himself. Impress his fans. But he wasn’t in the mood.

“Quiet night?” he asked at the nearest watchtower, arms folded as he looked down at the twinkling lights of the Seireitei.

“All quiet,” said the watchman who’d seen him, while the other clutched her chest and muttered expletives. Grimmjow nodded and continued on his way, taking the long route home. They’d had over a century of peace, yeah, but it always paid to be careful.

And, well. He had another reason for taking his time.

Behind the main barracks, Division Seven's captain quarters had been set aside, allowing room for a little more privacy. Separated by a wall, it even included a small garden. Many shinigami had places they considered more home than the Seireitei, places they’d grown up in, places they returned to when they could. Captains didn’t have that luxury. A captain’s devotion had to be absolute - Ichigo was no exception. It was fortunate, then, that he and Grimmjow liked the home they’d made.

Warm light spilled from the bedroom. Grimmjow dropped down from the roof, into the garden, and opened the door. “I’m home.”

“Hey, Grimmjow.”

Ichigo was in bed already, a book in his hands, a lamp by his side, surrounded by pillows. Grimmjow took off his shoes and closed the door behind him, before heading to their wardrobe and stripping down.

The layout was simple. A bookshelf at one end next to a chest of draws, a couple of chairs with clothes flung over them in the far corner, and their futon laid out on the tatami. But there were posters on the walls, hung between framed photographs. A bright red electric guitar was on its stand, case open beside it. There was even a small, old fashioned TV set perched on a low table, for late night movie marathons while curled up together in bed. All things that made the bedroom theirs. Grimmjow tried, briefly, to imagine the space a little differently. A crib in the corner, some toys maybe. But it wouldn’t stick.

“How was Hueco Mundo?” Ichigo continued, turning a page. Part of that grizzly murder mystery series Abarai had him hooked on, by the look of the cover.

“Eh. The same. Harribel manages fine.” Grimmjow pulled on his usual loose sweats and old T-shirt and approached the wide futon they shared. Ichigo put down his book and stretched out, arms folded under his head, as Grimmjow pulled back the covers.

“Hueco Mundo’s pretty constant huh,” Ichigo remarked.

“Yeah.” Same sand, same sky, same as it should be. “How were things here?”

Ichigo shrugged. “Normal. Met the new guys, Rina got them settled. I had a meeting with Kyoraku, though… Went to visit my family.”

They settled themselves into a relaxed embrace, like they had a million times before, but Grimmjow felt Ichigo’s heartbeat quicken under his palm.

Ah, shit…

“Things have been the same for a while,” Ichigo continued, reaching across to trace the silvery scars on Grimmjow’s chest. “That’s not a bad thing I guess. It’s about time we had peace. But it’s kinda boring, y’know?” He wasn’t looking at Grimmjow. He looked happy, but the steady gaze he leveled at the ceiling was a little too intense.

Grimmjow opened his mouth, but stopped. He’d tried to prepare, he _knew_ what was coming, but how was he supposed to say it? How was he supposed to _deal?_

“So I was thinking we could shake things up.”

Ichigo turned his head of that their eyes could meet, light pink dusting his cheeks. He looked soft, _open,_ in a way that made Grimmjow’s heart thud in his throat. He was about to ruin that look. He wanted to savour it.

“Will you marry me?”

It was so completely _not_ what Grimmjow was expecting that for a long moment he could only stare.

“Uh,” he said, all of his pre-prepared refusals rendered useless as Ichigo went from happy and hopeful to vaguely concerned. The relief was so strong it felt almost hard to breathe.  _Not children -_ the dark future Grimmjow had imagine vanished, like smoke. He had never been so happy to be wrong.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he managed eventually. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“ _Really?_ ” Ichigo pushed himself up on his elbow, leaning over Grimmjow. “You're sure?”

“I said yes didn’t I?” said Grimmjow, still feeling slightly dazed.

Ichigo tackled him with kisses.

When he pulled back they were both breathless.

“Thank you,” Ichigo gasped. “I thought… There’s no reason you’d say no but–”

Grimmjow sat up and pulled him into a hug. Ichigo clung to him, trembling ever so slightly and pressing kisses to Grimmjow's neck. He didn’t often get like this, so completely overwhelmed with emotion, but whenever he did it always left an odd tangle of _feelings_ in the general vicinity of Grimmjow’s hollow hole. Such trust was so rare, and not just between Hollows.

It didn’t take long for Ichigo to collect himself, eyes shining with happiness. They kissed, long and deep.

“So…” Grimmjow leaned away enough to speak. “What does marriage involve anyway?” he asked, as casually as he could.

Ichigo paused mid-smile. “Ah… You don’t…? You get what you signed up for, right?”

“I know _some_ of it,” Grimmjow said defensively. Several of Ichigo’s friends had got hitched while he’d been in the human world. “There’s a ceremony and a party and they have rocking sex.” Hell, he’d been to some of the parties. “But no one’s ever told me what _else_ goes on.” And truthfully he’d never bothered to ask.

Ichigo looked towards the ceiling, head tilted. “It’s kind of like a contract,” he began. Then he stopped, and shook his head. “No, that doesn’t sound right. It’s… Ok it is partly a legal agreement thing, to stay together and not have any other partners.”

“We already do that,” Grimmjow pointed out.

“Yeah, we’re already mostly there,” said Ichigo. “But it’s also like… a symbol. It shows how much two people mean to each other, that they’ll be together for life because… because they love each other.”

Ichigo dipped his head as his cheeks darkened further. Grimmjow leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“I’ll do that with you,” he murmured. “I’ll stay with you. Forever.”

“You sap,” Ichigo mumbled, looking slyly through his bangs. “It’s also a final ‘fuck you’ to everyone who said we wouldn’t last.”

Grimmjow laughed at that. “Well, obviously we gotta do it,” he grinned. “When do we start?”

“There are some legal loopholes to get through,” said Ichigo, sitting up straight and taking Grimmjow’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “There have only been a few same-gender partnerships in the Seireitei. And none of them have been between anyone as weird as us… But I asked around. We can make it work.”

“We _will_ make it work,” said Grimmjow. Huh. _Marriage_. They’d be, what, husbands? That’d be weird. Grimmjow had got very used to calling Ichigo his partner, which covered their relationship pretty neatly from past to present. Ally, friend, fuck-buddy, life partner. Would husbands be different?  _Should_ they be different? Intense PDA wasn’t exactly their thing. They traded insults more than kisses; they'd never be like the love-struck newlyweds in googey romances, thank fuck. But what they had, what they’d made together… The thought of somehow being even closer than they were already… it felt good. Felt right.

“I’m not even slightly tired now,” Ichigo said, flopping blissfully onto his back. “Ah, shit, I’ve got so much to do tomorrow. I still need to break in the new guys. Plus there’s wedding stuff to sort out. Do you wanna do rings? I wanna do rings."

“Can I help?” Grimmjow purred, reaching under the covers to run a hand along Ichigo’s inner thigh. They could tire each other out, no problem.

“The new recruits will want to see you,” said Ichigo, oblivious. “And some of them will want to fight you, do _not_ land any in the Fourth this time.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. “I know, I know.”

“And you can help with the paperwork.”

“Pass.”

“Yeah, thought so… Otherwise, we need to discuss some stuff some more… Like if we want a ceremony, what the reception will be like, who we wanna invite… _When_ to get married, of course.”

“As soon as possible,” said Grimmjow.

Ichigo looked at him, eyes shining. “You’re sure?” he asked softly.

Grimmjow nodded. He lay down as well, gazing at Ichigo’s profile - how the lamplight glowed gold through his hair, how his smile was open and free. There were questions still, but they could wait.

“I’m sure.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to anyone who expected a kid fic! I do like the idea of Grimmichi children, though, so maybe in another 'verse!

* * *

One hundred years ago, in the human world, in a human town, in a perfectly normal human apartment, Ichigo slid down the back of his door, and held his head in his hands. Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen, but the echoing slam of the door as it closed seemed to hang in the air, in his wake.

A fight. They’d had a fight. All couples had fights, and arguments, and things that couldn’t be worked out straight away. Things that couldn’t be solved by basic compromise. It was normal, normal for most couples, and especially normal for them.

Ichigo tugged at his hair and laughed darkly under his breath. Half of their relationship was _built_ on fighting. They had regular spars, going at each other on Hueco Mundo’s dunes. There was a space cleared in the living room for hand-to-hand matches. They decided which movie to watch by arm wrestling, sometimes. Played Street Fighter almost daily on Ichigo’s battered PS3.

This had been different. Not a physical fight. This had been shouting, insults, slamming doors, breaking things. Accusations flung like confetti. Hurt feelings like barbed wire. Until Grimmjow had stormed out, or maybe Ichigo had thrown him out. It didn’t seem to matter, the point was that Grimmjow was gone. He’d be back, of course he’d be back… but his absence hurt like a bruise.

Ichigo sighed and slowly got to his feet, looking dully around at the trashed apartment. All because of a few grey hairs and some lines on his face…

He threw a handful of broken glass in the trash and kicked a chair back into place at the table. Eighteen years. They’d been together for more than _eighteen years._ Known each other for longer. Been to hell and back already, hurting their feelings on each other, neither of them sure what they wanted until it was almost too late. Making the impossible a reality. And now Ichigo was visibly forty.

When he used his powers, it all disappeared. He looked young again. But he had a life and a job outside being a Shinigami, he was a doctor with patients who did grocery shopping and met up with colleagues on Fridays, had friends and family who were aging alongside him. He couldn’t use his powers all the time just to please Grimmjow, even if people stared at them even more now. Stared accusingly at the 42-year-old man with his 25-year-old boyfriend.

Ichigo sat at the table, room still in shambles around him, and stared at the veins in his hands. Grimmjow had refused a gigai that aged. Wanted to exist forever unchanging, wanted to keep looking like _himself._ He couldn’t stand the thought of humans shriveling up before his eyes.

The thought of Ichigo dying.

Ichigo _got it._ He _did._ Arrancar didn’t change like humans. He knew that Grimmjow was _afraid._ But that didn’t make it any easier.

They’d been together for eighteen years. Grimmjow still spent time in Las Noches, left his gigai around like discarded clothing for Ichigo to trip over at 4am, but they lived together. Ate together. Took turns with who cooked, who did the laundry, who ran to the supermarket in the morning because they’d run out of milk. Played video games in the evening and watched movies at weekends. Went out for drinks and hung out with friends. Did what normal, human couples did.

They’d fought for every second of that time, forcing it to work. A Hollow and a Shinigami, together because they weren’t fucking _quitters._ Life threw punches and they hit right back.

But this… Ichigo couldn’t think of a way of fixing this. He wasn’t ready to leave his human life behind. Grimmjow wasn’t willing to endure it.

In fifty years, Ichigo would die. He would wake up one morning and his body would not. He’d be free. His region’s Shinigami would greet him happily and offer to arrange for a Senkaimon, the Seireitei more than happy to finally have him back.

But before that, Ichigo would have somewhere else to be.

He’d go to Hueco Mundo, feel Grimmjow’s soul flare like a firework,

speak to him, say, _“hey,_

_“it’s been a while,_

_"but I’m glad to see you.”_

And Grimmjow would apologize, head bowed to the sand.

Once again, they’d make it work.

But until then, Ichigo sat at the table in the middle of a trashed apartment, broken bits of porcelain scattered on the floor, and realised that this time, they could not.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

More than one hundred years in the future, Ichigo woke up slowly and found the space beside him empty. Usually it wouldn’t bother him, but something – a dream, perhaps? he couldn’t remember – had left him feeling… unsettled. He wanted company.

Getting up, Ichigo stretched and yawned, and followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen. It was only when he saw Grimmjow standing at the range, still in his pajamas with his hair a sleep-styled mess, that Ichigo remembered the night before.

“Morning,” said Grimmjow, voice low and lazy with sleep, not looking up from the fried egg he was sliding off the pan.

“Morning,” said Ichigo. “Uh, was last night real?"

Oil fizzed. A spatula scraped over metal. “Which part?”

Ichigo sat at the table, helping himself to coffee. “The part where we got engaged.”

Grimmjow turned to him with a rare, gentle smile. “Yes.”

Two plates loaded with Western-style breakfasts were slid onto the table. Grimmjow sat down as Ichigo pulled his plate closer and dug in, happily losing himself for a while in a warm haze of bacon and eggs.

“So now what?” Grimmjow asked eventually. He looked so casual, hair flopping into his eyes, chin propped on the hand that wasn’t cutting up sausage with the side of his fork. Most people would never be able to tell he’d spent half the night awake, watching Ichigo’s profile as dawn light shone through the window, basking in the simple pleasure… and plotting something.

Ichigo paused, mouth full of toast. Some of the caffeine was starting to kick in and his eyes drifted upwards in thought. “Well,” he said, after swallowing, “we need to do something about you not being, y’know, an official citizen.”

“Yeah, you said have an idea for that?” Grimmjow asked, just as Ichigo took another bite.

“Gimme a shecond.” Ichigo finished off the rest of his egg and washed it down with a shot of coffee. “Yeah, so, you’re not a citizen,” he began, urging his brain into gear, “but we've been living in sin together for like, one-and-a-half centuries. We're just doing the right thing by making it official and besides, you technically work for Soul Society. I’m gonna discuss it more with Kyoraku, but they can’t employ you and deny your rights at the same time.”

"They can try," Grimmjow scoffed, "but we'll give 'em hell for it."

It was one of the many things that had been arranged behind the scenes. Urahara probably had a hand in it. According to _some people,_  Ichigo could sleep with whoever he wanted to while he was alive, but now that he was ‘officially’ a Shinigami, his relationships were every nosy asshole’s business. He and Grimmjow had been forced through a load of ‘this is bad and you should break up’ crap again, except it had all been phrased very courteously in passive-aggressive letters from the Central 46.

Somewhere in middle of that particular nightmare, they’d been made Hueco Mundo diplomats. Ichigo still wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. But the alarms had stopped blaring whenever Grimmjow came through a Garganta, and they even had official-ish armbands somewhere which read ‘Las Noches Ambassador’.

It was bullshit and everyone knew it. A tactic used to appease some and silence others, but for the most part Ichigo was grateful - it’d been a great springboard for getting his Division set up. But even after so long, there was a strong feeling of unease about a Hollow living in Soul Society. Sure, the not-so-subtle breakup advice had stopped, but Ichigo was keenly aware that he and Grimmjow were about to cross some lines.

“It all comes down to politics, huh,” Grimmjow mused. “Don’t I have to ask your guys for permission first?”

“I asked for you,” said Ichigo. “You’re one of the clan now, like it or not.”

“Somebody save me,” Grimmjow deadpanned. “Does this mean I have to go through Shiba-Kurosaki Ultra-Fun Family Gaming Night too?”

“Bi-monthly at the least.”

“Damn.”

Ichigo laughed, getting up to rinse his plate in the sink. “Who am I supposed to ask?” he wondered aloud. “Not saying it matters, but… Nel?”

Grimmjow shrugged, leaning back in his chair and picking bits out of his teeth. “Harribel, if anyone.”

“God, can you imagine?” Ichigo rubbed soap into the frying pan and shuddered. He could picture it, standing beneath her ice-cold stare while the Bestias giggled evilly in the background. Harribel was great, but also terrifying.

“Maybe,” said Grimmjow, “you should.”

“Hm?”

“Ask Harribel.”

Ichigo turned the tap off. Water dripped into the resulting quiet. It had been a joke, and surely Grimmjow understood - he knew that Ichigo knew that he didn’t need anyone’s permission for anything, thanks… Unless, of course, Grimmjow had something else in mind.

“I mean… it’s not as if it doesn’t involve Las Noches,” Ichigo said slowly. “Whatever we do, it’ll affect them. But are you ok with that? Her being all up in your personal life?”

“I’m not,” said Grimmjow. “But she doesn’t have to be. I’m saying, that if Harribel approves - which she will - then Soul Society can’t say no.”

 _“Because_ it’s political,” said Ichigo, as realization dawned. “They’d be stupid to pass up something like this - it’d bind the Seireitei and Las Noches for… well, _ever_. And noble families do it all the time, marrying for advantage.”

Grimmjow smiled, all teeth. _“Exactly_.”

“We’re gonna play them.”

“Like a fucking fiddle.”

“They won’t like it,” Ichigo warned. “If anyone catches on, they’ll stop us. Or they can try but we’ll give them hell for it.”

“As if they’d dare,” Grimmjow scoffed, and Ichigo knew he’d already made up his mind. “Dunno if you’ve noticed, but we’re pretty fucking popular. The Noble Houses have already lost power, they won’t risk it again.”

“True…” But there was still the Central 46, and not all the Captains would be on board. Ancient traditions could only bend so far. Ichigo watched murky water dribble down the plughole. With the giddy feeling of _wow, we’re engaged, engaged to be married, wow,_ starting to fade, reality was taking its ugly place at the table.

Grimmjow got up and jabbed him in the forehead.

“You could hold a yen between your eyebrows,” he grunted, hand moving to run through Ichigo’s mess of hair. “It’ll be fine. Stop thinking so hard.”

“Can’t, I’m compensating,” Ichigo fired back with practiced ease.

They reached for each other and kissed, a little longer, a little deeper, than was normal for their usual workday routine. Grimmjow’s mouth lingered on Ichigo’s cheek, one hand at his neck, thumb brushing gently at the tender skin beneath his ear, calming, reassuring.

They’d make it work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Definitely_ hasn't been six months since the last update. Nope, not at all.  
> ...  
> I'm sorry ;_;

The Garganta opened on top of Las Noches’ main gates. Ichigo stepped onto the stone, Grimmjow by his side, a cold wind rushed through the sky and rustling their heavy sandcloaks. Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow sideways, taking him in, how he was cut out perfectly against the pitch black sky. Grimmjow caught his eye and smirked.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

_“What?”_

Ichigo looked away, fighting a smile. “I still think it looks stupid.”

“I look better than you do!”

They were in their Official Ambassador gear. For Ichigo, black Shinigami robes accented by Las Noches white, and he’d borrowed a pair of Grimmjow’s desert boots for the occasion. The reverse for Grimmjow, a white shihakusho with sharp black trim. Completing the picture were their armbands, clearly on display. Ichigo felt a little over-dressed, and Grimmjow certainly did, considering he usually rocked up in jeans and shirts he wouldn't mind getting ruined in a fight. But it got the point across - that this visit was important, not one their weekend getaways.

Ichigo snuck another look. Those clothes used to cause him a ripple of discomfort, stark white reminding him all too strongly of the clothes Aizen made… but in a way that was the point, was't it? Harribel had _chosen_ white, reclaimed it even - stated that Arrancar _were_ different, were _not_ like Shinigami, so why should they mimic the generic black uniforms? It was the same with Las Noches - white like bone, white like sand, white like Hollow masks. It had nothing to do with the man who'd built it.

Grimmjow’s thoughts were elsewhere. He caught Ichigo’s gaze, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Put it on.”

Ichigo raised his hand. His mask settled into place with a rush of dark power, feeling light and cool against his skin. Zangetsu made a contented sound in the back of his mind, perfectly at home in Hueco Mundo.

Grimmjow hummed low in his throat, reaching out to trace the edge of one of Ichigo’s knife-like fangs. “Fight me with it later,” he purred.

Ichigo nodded, heartbeat picking up. “Soon as we’re done here.” Hueco Mundo was one of the few places they could really cut loose, and they’d hate to waste the opportunity. “But first…”

Ichigo turned his attention to Las Noches’ main tower. It loomed against the skyline, cutting through the moon.

“…We've gotta ask your mom if I can marry you.”

Grimmjow pushed him off the gate.

Las Noches was a city that rivaled the Seireitei. The lands behind its walls were covered in a maze of structures - houses, yes, but also workshops, storerooms, libraries, and more. The roads were smooth and gleamed like marble, while streams of crystal clear water glimmered along the tops of aqueducts. It was a grand, beautiful city.

Not that Ichigo had the chance to look. Landing ass-first on the main road wasn't the most dignified way to arrive, but he thought he pulled it off.

 _“Whoops,”_ said Grimmjow, landing smoothly with all his kingly feline grace. “You were saying?”

“Only that I can't _wait_ to kick your ass later,” Ichigo said, getting up and dismissing his mask. “Are we going or what?”

-

_“That’s him!”_

_“What's happening?”_

_“I’ve never seen them together before…”_

_“Are we in danger?”_

_“Will there be a fight?”_

“ _That’s Grimmjow’s shinigami!_ ”

Whispers travelled along the halls. Eyes followed the visitors. Gossip grew and flourished.

_“Why are they here?”_

_“Those clothes…”_

_“Are we in trouble?”_

_“Is it the Seireitei?”_

_“Is there going to be another war?”_

“They never stop, do they?” Sung-Sun remarked, gazing down with mild interest at the  excited huddle a few balconies below. Faces of all shapes and sizes leaned out to catch a glimpse of the legendary duo currently zooming towards the main tower - and they weren't alone. Every Hollow for a hundred miles had stopped to pay attention.

“Che, so nosey,” Apacci muttered. “You’d think they have something better to do.”

“Who’s nosey?” Mila Rose said snidely. “You’re watching too.”

“Am not!” Apacci turned away with folded arms to lean against the railing. “I couldn’t care less about whatever those two are doing here. I just came out to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Uh _huh,”_ said Mila Rose.

“It’s been a long time since they wore those outfits,” Sung-Sun mused. “Do you think there’s an emergency in the Seireitei? Do they need our help for something?”

“They'd better!” Apacci said hotly. “It’s getting boring over here.”

“Why you…! Harribel-sama desires nothing more than peace!” Mila Rose snapped.

“Don't tell me you aren't bored too!”

“If you want excitement that badly, why don't you pull a Grimmjow and leave for a decade or five?”

“ _Why you-!”_

“Oh, look, they’ve arrived,” said Sung-Sun, as the blurs of orange and blue came to a halt at the bottom of the tower. “It’s a shame you’re not interested, Apacci,” she continued, gliding towards the staircase. “I guess you’re in the dark for this one.”

“Yeah, later,” said Mila Rose, also making her way down.

“Wh-?!”

-

In a flash if reiyoku, the Seireitei Representative and Las Noches Dignitary came to a halt at the foot of the main tower.

“I didn't say it was bad I just said it wasn't _as_ _good,"_  Ichigo stressed.

“Yes you did!” Grimmjow insisted.

“I did not!”

“I was _there!”_

“Then I must've said it’s bad _when compared to_ their other stuff.”

“Ha!” Grimmjow turned, and jabbed Ichigo triumphantly in the chest. “You're changing the story!”

“What, you expect me to remember _everything_ I say?” Ichigo jabbed back, harder. “I told you, I don't think it's bad!”

“Then why don't you listen to it?”

“B-because I'm listening to albums I think are better!”

“Just admit it - your favourite band is losing its touch.”

_“Never.”_

“Welcome to Las Noches,” a deep voice interrupted. “Grimmjow-sama, Kurosaki-taicho. Are you well?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re good,” said Ichigo, breaking away from the argument. “Uh…”

The Arrancar who greeted them was tall and dark, with startling green eyes. Her mask fragment ran in four serrated ridges from crown of her bald head to the base of her skull. Her white clothes resembled robes - like almost every high-ranking Arrancar’s - and her bare arms were visibly scarred. Nonetheless, she carried herself with grace.

Ichigo had definitely met her before, probably.

Grimmjow dipped his head in stiff politeness. “Olseni,” he said in greeting, to Ichigo’s relief.

“Olseni-san,” said Ichigo. “How are you?”

“I am fine, thank you,” she replied, perfectly calm and completely expressionless. So much for the welcoming committee. “May I ask why you are visiting?”

“To speak to Harribel,” said Grimmjow, meeting Olseni’s eyes with a cold look of his own. “Is she around?”

Olseni looked away first. “Aye,” she said. “Harriebl-sama made arrangements as soon as she sensed your arrival. Please, follow me.”

“...Great,” said Ichigo, feeling left out.

Olseni turned, and the great doors swung open, responding in an instant to the brush of her reiyoku. Ichigo and Grimmjow followed her inside, white road beneath their feet giving way to dark green tile. The first floor of the tower was a large entry hall, mostly bare except for smooth pillars. Blue orbs were set within them, as well as along the walls - soft light which reflected off the stone, giving the room an ambient glow.

For diplomatic meetings, the lights were brightened out of courtesy to Shinigami guests, but Ichigo simply reached for his powers and felt his eyes adjust. Details became clearer - the carvings in the pillars, the patterns on the tiles…

…the cluster of Hollows at the far side of the hall.

Ichigo waved. A few of them waved back. Grimmjow made a derisive sound. He stepped closer to Ichigo and tracked the group with narrowed eyes, but eased off once his point had been made. There was no threat, just curiosity, but Grimmjow was always that bit more possessive in Las Noches. Not that Ichigo was complaining, he _knew_ what came later.

Up and up the spiral staircase, into the main body to the tower, and towards Harribel’s private conference room. Flight after flight of gleaming stairs, past countless doors…

…was the elevator broken or something?

“D’you think she knows there’s another way?” Grimmjow muttered.

“It’s to tire us out, so we argue less,” Ichigo snarked. If Olseni heard them, she didn’t do anything. When they at last reached the double doors, she turned and bowed politely.

“I will announce your arrival to Harribel-sama,” she said, before stepping inside.

With that, they were left alone in the chamber, nothing but a few stiff chairs and some vases on plinths to keep them company. Grimmjow leaned against the wall, arms folded, eyes on the stairwell. Ichigo moved towards one of the arched windows and gazed out.

“What exactly are you going to say?” he asked quietly.

Grimmjow’s head snapped up. “Me? I thought you were doing it.”

“Uh… No?” Ichigo turned away from the view to give Grimmjow bemused look. “It was your idea.”

“So?” said Grimmjow, _“You’re_ asking as a Shinigami.”

Ichigo blinked. “Well you’re asking as a Hollow!”

"You said you'd ask the second we got here, dipshit. On the gate!"

"I said _we'd_ ask, that didn't mean I wanted to do _all_ the talking."

 _“You’re_ the guy who runs all the diplomacy shit, you do it!”

“Well she’s _your_ queen! …So to speak. You ask her!"

They glared at each other with rising frustration before bursting into laughter.

Ichigo leaned against Grimmjow’s shoulder, punching his arm. “Ha, see, you are nervous.”

Grimmjow jabbed his fingers into Ichigo’s ribs. “So are you,” he shot back. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Ichigo did not look convinced. "It's a pretty big deal,” he said, catching Grimmjow’s hand and twisting it away. “Stop that!”

Grimmjow stopped. “Aizen was a big deal. _Ywach_ was a big deal. This? Is not a big deal.”

“There is less chance of us dying, I guess.”

“Will you lighten up?” Grimmjow propped his chin on Ichigo’s shoulder and gave him a shake. “I thought this was a good thing.”

“I know, I know, it’s just…” Ichigo tensed, “uh…”

“What?”

Grimmjow pulled back. He put his hand on Ichigo’s cheek, and there was a moment of stillness as they read each other’s eyes. Ichigo, so happy, but worried too. Grimmjow shifted his thumb absentmindedly to rub the smile lines at the corner of Ichigo’s eye.

“What?” he repeated quietly.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo whispered, steeling himself, "she's... she's  _scary_ , right? It's not just me!"

Grimmjow snorted and let his hand drop. "It is just you."

"The hell, you're not even a little bit intimidated?!"

"Not at all."

_"Liar."_

"I thought you liked Harribel!"

"I do!" Ichigo huffed out a sigh. "I do, but I also like Kenpachi, and if he comes at me with his bankai out  _one more fucking time-"_

" _Ooh,_  comparing Harribel to  _that_ bastard, bet she'll love that."

"I swear if you say  _anything-"_

The doors swung open. “Grimmjow, Ichigo, welcome.”

“Harribel-san, hey!” said Ichigo, striding forward bravely to greet her and missing the brief flash of disappointment in Grimmjow’s eyes. “How are you doing? It’s been a while.”

“I’m well,” Harribel replied, eyes creasing as she smiled. Her clothes no longer hid the top of her mask, the crisp white of its flowing skirt and draping sleeves complementing rather than concealing. A picture of confidence and grace. “How are you? How is the Seireitei? Your last correspondence gave no cause for concern.”

“Yeah we’re good,” said Grimmjow, striding past them into the hall. “Can we get this started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I've got ahead with writing again, so the wait will probably only be four months this time |'D Oh yes, I did a Harribel redesign doodle  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also, quick question: what do you think of villain OCs?

**Author's Note:**

> I do occasionally go back and edit chapters, so if something looks different, your eyes are not deceiving you! Some big things I've changed:  
> \- 200 years is now 100  
> \- Ichigo is definitely captain of the _seventh_ , not the ninth as I mistakenly wrote a couple of times


End file.
